A fondness for Simbelmyne
by LauraNanette
Summary: There will be numerous ups and downs but particularly in the beginning. Ultimately, will Eomer and Lothiriel find peace in their marriage after a failed pregnancy and the loss having devastated the two?
1. Chapter 1: A great loss

_May - year 3022 of Fourth Age - Edoras_

Eomer entered the chamber, he was fully aware of what she was going to tell him. The healers had already broken the news to him only moments earlier, upon hearing it he wished he had not.

She stood before him, tears falling from her eyes. Never had he seen her in such despair. "I-I lost our child Eomer." The words stung.

She wept, no matter how much she wanted to hold strong, she could not control her sobbing and the throbbing sensation in her throat burned, she felt as if she might grip at her own neck, just to try and subdue the pain. Eomer was frozen, he wanted to go to her and give her such comfort but the sadness of this news had taken hold. His heart ached too greatly, with knowing that he would not be the father to welcome a beautiful little daughter or an heir so alike himself that he could proudly call his own.

In the months that came to pass Rohan was cold at the news of their beloved King and Queen's heartache, for the people felt it as well. They had hoped there to be a new heir. Servants, council members and lords moved quickly and silently around Edoras with little purpose, any major decisions about Rohan were put on hold, advisors used the justification that 'the King was ill and only time would be his cure' even the Rohirrim remained in Edoras and regular patrols were halted.

Eomer sat filled with great sorrow in Meduseld, deep in thought and grief. Lotheriel would often request to be left alone; she slept the days away and ate with Eomer at meal times, refusing to host or be party to any others. Unbeknownst to her, Eomer had begrudgingly called on her father and brothers to pay visit to the Queen. On the eve of their arrival, he told Lothiriel.

Taking a sip of wine, he began. "I sent message to your father. Imrahil and your brothers will be arriving morrow at mid-day I should think."

"What say you, oh Eomer, you did not?"

"I thought it be the right time for you-"

She shouted firmly back at him. "WELL IT IS NOT!" Slamming her hands down on the table and pushing her seat back, she stood with great force. Her eyes were wild with fury.

He remained seated, a neutral expression on his face.

Her arms outstretched, palms flat pushing hard down on the table. Her right arm nearest to him quavered, as if she were trying tirelessly to hold her position. He noticed this. She breathed in heavily and exhaled as though she was trying to push air out through her clenched teeth. Eomer's body remained completely still, his hands resting on the table top, mouth closed. He lifted his chin only a little. Moving his eyes slowly and deliberately up to look at her, as if he'd peeled those very eyes away from where he had previously chosen to focus.

"Sit down." He spoke.

She did not comply, her eyes still as wild as before.

"Lothiriel, be seated."

She stepped out from her pushed over seat and backed away from the table, shaking her head at him; overwhelmed, a soft whimper came from her throat that she endeavoured to hold it in but to no avail, Eomer heard.

Eomer had seen his mother succumb to her grief; it was to him, as if he was watching the same happen to Lothiriel, his most beautiful young wife that he loved with all his heart. She was the Queen of Rohan, _his Queen_. Cautiously he stood and took a couple of steps toward her, watching her body language and eyes as they darted away from him now…

"Do not!" She managed to build up enough courage to shout at him before she broke down.

He lunged forward and pulled her to him, holding her securely. She fought at first, only for a few moments, flaying in his embrace. She pounded her tight coiled up fists now on his chest and shoulders. She was screaming and weeping hysterically before she finally went limp in his arms.

"It is alright, alright my dear." He cooed. Lothiriel's head was nestled into his chest. "Shhh my love…" He lulled as if he was talking to his horse. He lifted her off the ground and she wrapped her legs around his waist, almost as if he were lifting a small child that clung to him. Eomer carried Lothiriel over to his chair and sat, his wife still wrapping herself around him as she cried.

In Rohan, there were no silver trumpets to wake the slumbering. Morning came; the sound of roosters awoke the King. Shirtless, he felt the chill on the air as he pushed away the covers and furs. Eomer was careful not to awake the Queen as she still slept deeply even with the loud cocking of the roosters. Eomer considered how soundly he has slept after how agonizing and emotionally draining the night before had been. After announcing to Lothiriel that her father and brothers would be arriving in Edoras at midday today, it had led to the royal couple grieving together and providing comfort in one another for the first time since the failed pregnancy. Eomer's eyes moved across the sleeping form of his wife, the steady rise and fall of her chest. She was so peaceful, her dark hair tied in a long braid that passed down beyond her waist, the sheer white night dress with gold trimming that was so very thin, it were almost as if she were naked. Her skin seemed to glow, even in the darkest of halls; the paleness contrasting with that of her hair. There was no doubt Lothiriel; Queen of Rohan was a striking beauty. She was a true Gondorian princess. It is said that Imrahil's line were descendants of Elven lineage and therefore elven blood flowed in their veins. It was in this moment the feeling that this devastation that affected the royal couple so, would not be an enduring state for them, he hoped. Wakening to a serenity that he had not felt in the previous months was an encouraging change.

* * *

The announcement came at Midday as predicted that a small party approached. Carrying a dark blue flag, and emblem upon it of a white swan and a ship, the flag of Dol Amroth. The large gates were opened for the visitors, confirmed to be Prince Imrahil and his sons Erchirion and Amrothos.

"Sire, Rohan's great ally Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth has come and his sons Lords Erchirion and Amrothos of Dol Amroth."

"Inform the Queen of her family's arrival, I shall greet them."

Eomer rose from his throne promptly to greet his close friends and in-laws.

"Come my sons, Lord Eomer awaits us." Handing over the reins of his beautiful white mare to a stable boy, Imrahil exited the stables followed in pursuit by his sons. The wind was rough and the howl upon the thatched roofs of buildings screeched as if the wind were to tear them apart in such haste to get to the other side. Imrahil's dark hair flew about his face as he looked up to the golden hall he saw Eomer awaiting them from the top tier of Meduseld. Climbing the stairs, Eomer stepped down from where he was to openly greet them. Clasping his hand with Imrahil's he drew him into a warm hug that could only be described as the meeting of two friends, long separated by such distance.

"Eomer, King of Rohan…my friend!" Imrahil spoke sincerely.

Intending to speak not only Imrahil, Eomer announced to the crowd that was gathered at the bottom of the great steps.

"My friends you are most welcome in Rohan, come, we have much to discuss and you shall rest. You must be weary from your travels. Your chambers have been arranged and for tonight, a great feast to honor Prince Imrahil father of our Queen and his valiant son's arrival in Edoras. Rohan and Gondor, look forward together as one. We build upon the friendships made between us, through the hardship seen by both our kingdoms. All hail, sons of Gondor!"

"Hail!" The crowd shouted in cheer.

"My friend, you are too kind." Imrahil answered, giving the King a warm smile.

Lothiriel burst through the doors to the Golden Hall behind them; a look of sheer happiness crossed her face at the sight of her father and brothers. For the people of Edoras this was the first time they had seen their Queen in almost three months, they bowed graciously in her presence. Those amongst the common people began to break into whispers, and then proceeded to call out to her.

"Bless, it's the Queen!"

An older man looked up from the ground. In exclamation he cried "Daughter of Eru, be her our Queen!"

"May you be blessed, Queen Lothiriel!"

Eomer was proud of his people, receiving Lothiriel with such warmness. Imrahil was delighted at the people's response to seeing his daughter.

'_My Lothiriel, adored by the people of Rohan'_ he thought to himself, grinning now.

Lothiriel was at a loss, how were the people so overjoyed to see her, not an ounce of disappointment, but admiration. Eomer moved to stand next to her, fumbling for her hand, entwining his fingers with hers, he gave a reassuring squeeze.

* * *

To be continued...


	2. Chapter 2: Half froze

**Author's notes: I hope you enjoy it, there will be more romance coming in the future. Please be patient with chapters, I'm doing my VCE... so chapters come out when they come out :) I want to get it right, so if you have an issue or idea please, you're welcome to express them. Thanks for the already very nice support.**

**I know some people like music to match while they read, if you do, I would suggest 'The water is wide performed by Charlotte Church' I think it would be most fitting for this chapter.**

**Sincerly,**

**Laura**

* * *

The evening of the feast, the Golden Hall was brimming with nobility of Rohan and the Gondorian visitors.

Eomer found his decision to call on Lothiriel's family, justified and as far as he could see, it had already done some good. Eomer couldn't help but smile as he watched Lothiriel dance with Amrothos. She threw back a laugh; it was sweet, like a harmony. The guests gave her applause, she was enjoying herself immensely. Swishing her dress as danced around her brother. Her thick dark hair done in half up and down style, the sides were pinned with a golden head-dress. She looked a true Queen of Rohan. She was woman far dissimilar to that of the shell of the woman she had become.

'_This is good'_ Eomer smiled to himself, pleased that Lothiriel was looking so content.

"Your highness" He was snapped out of his thoughts, a kindly voice commanded his attention.

"Ah Elphir, are you enjoying yourself my friend? And please you know me better than to address me as 'your highness', come now." He refuted to Elphir's manner.

The King stood and placed a hand upon Elphir's shoulder warmly.

"I had thought you might have some difficulty visiting us, your wife is expecting?" Eomer asked, feeling it was only courteous to mention his friend's wife and her present condition, he was happy for him.

"Soon, some months yet, being the most understanding woman, she wanted me to be by my baby sister's side." He looked over at Lothiriel, laughing and vivacious.

"I'm glad to be seeing her smile again Elphir." His voice was ripe with despondency. Eomer's face turned to hurt, his eyes trailing Lothiriel.

Ever since their first meeting, Elphir had recognized Eomer as being a man to fiercely love his kinfolk. There was no doubt now that Eomer was still that man, perhaps even more so, for his love for Lothiriel ran deep.

"I cannot imagine your pain brother, both of you have suffered from this loss."

Eomer could not speak any more about it, for now she was happy.

* * *

Imrahil watched Amrothos twirl Lothiriel from afar. He felt a pang of guilt that he had not come sooner. After receiving her husband's letter, he was aggrieved the child had not lived.

Eomer had detailed Lothiriel's pattern of taking to her bed during the day and not being host to anyone, other than Eomer. You would not think it now; his daughter seemed to be taking happiness in the company of others and seemed to be pleased to see her brothers.

Imrahil had to concede how similar Lothiriel and Amrothos were, only two years apart in age. He reminisced of the days when they were but small children. The pair would go off to explore in the morning and regularly be returned to him by the afternoon. They always managed to cause some mischief; Imrahil rarely punished them for it. Complaints were frequently made that the guards had spent an entire day chasing after the young Prince and Princess for 'disrupting the peace' than actually guarding Dol Amroth. An exaggeration surely, Imrahil chuckled.

Lothiriel noticed her father's daydreaming from across the hall. The last time Lothiriel had shared a dance with her father, was at her wedding and coronation ceremony. Imrahil was the first man to allow young Lothiriel the chance to tread on his feet. Of course, the little princess's feet were light as a feather and at the age of six, her father did not fuss.

'_A young and beautiful Dol Amroth princess must know how to dance with a lord of Gondor'_ she could hear her father repeating the words. She did not however, marry the lord of Gondor, always presumed she would. Her adventures with Amrothos usually left no time for dancing of course, however now she could not think of anything more wonderful than dancing with her father in this very moment. She enthusiastically strode over to him.

"May I?" Breathlessly, she held out her slender hand

"Come with me instead?" He rose, taking her hand and leading her towards the doorway.

* * *

Eomer was heavily involved in an arm wrestle between himself and Elphir, completely oblivious that Lothiriel and Imrahil had stepped out. The men gathered around, split ale and froth covered the timber surface, swept clear for the great arm wrestle to take place.

All except Erchirion were yelling out for Eomer to win. Erchirion was being a loyal brother to Elphir, knowing all odds would be on the King to win, deep down he knew Elphir would be pushing uphill.

Erchirion was to the left of Elphir whispering in his ear, while Amrothos being the devious dramatic of the princes, tried to distract Elphir from his game.

Looking up from his pint, his now filthy face covered in froth. "Elphir, is it true you wept last time?"

"WHAT-nay I did not! Amrothos go away!" Elphir snarled through clenched teeth.

"He did, he did! You challenged Eomer and you lost most definitely, I remember you did…" A passionate Amrothos teased.

Erchirion observed Amrothos and decided to play along with his little brother's crafty ways.

"Amrothos, where do your allegiances lie?" He snapped back at him most dramatically.

Amrothos now fully immersed himself with the role leapt up onto a table and shouted most vigorously "WITH ROHAN!"

The men cheered and roared, raising their ale to the young prince.

"Perhaps I shall abandon Gondor and join your blessed King!" Amrothos mocked.

"Nay I could not, for King Elessar is a kindred spirit!" Identifying his patriotic nature to Gondor he charmed the crowd and showed his great deal of love for Eomer.

The men cheered out again in appraisal of the Prince's kind words.

Eomer could hear the din of his men cheering him on and Amrothos' humoring of his opponent, but he was most intent of winning and knowing Elphir as well as he did, he knew the prince would not give in so easily. Both men had droplets of sweat across the brow and Eomer could sense he was red hot. They were both just as absorbed and tired from the game as each other.

"Elphir, you may as well give in." A sweated up Eomer tried to persuade.

"Horse master, your strength has forsaken you."

The game increased with pressure as Elphir returned powerfully against Eomer. It looked as if he were about to be defeated, Amrothos went behind the King and began massaging his shoulders, he lent down to the King's ear.

"Win for Lothiriel! Elphir is weak, you are a great King! Do not let your men see you defeated by this Gondorian fool. Do not let Lothiriel see you defeated by her brother." Eomer growled at Amrothos' words.

* * *

Lothiriel looked up at the dark sky, momentarily stopping to gaze at the stars. It was chilly; Lothiriel wore a long thick white fur coat that trailed behind her. It was one of her finest attires; around her neck the fur was thick and warm, fluffy, while the rest of the coat hung shapely on her. It was designed in the traditional Rohirrim style, intricate golden embroidery on the hems. It was her very first item upon coming to Rohan, which was in the traditional style. It had been a royal wedding gift, thoughtfully given to her by the Steward of Gondor, Lord Faramir who was also her dear cousin and his wife, the King's sister, Eowyn.

_"It will keep you warm, even on the coldest of nights." Eowyn stated with a warm smile. Faramir admired as Lothiriel brushed her hand over the soft fur, adoring how soft it felt to her skin._

_"It pleases you?" Faramir queried._

_"Greatly, you are too kind." She stated as if she were merely no one of such importance to deserve such a lavish and fashionable gift._

_"Please, you are my brother's wife, now my sister. I have cause to dote on you so." Eowyn invited Lothiriel into an embrace. As they parted, Eowyn placed both hands upon her shoulders and brought her forehead to Lothiriel's for a moment._

_Faramir took Lothiriel's hand and pressed a soft kiss to it._

"Come my child" Imrahil walked in front. He stopped at the foot of the stair of stone, high and broad. He turned back eagerly to see if she was on his heel. Lothiriel was being careful not to fall; she was on the bottommost flight of stairs, not wanting to trip in the darkness. She was being cautious that she was wearing the coat and carrying a torch, she was uneasy as the wind was powerful. Imrahil climbed the stairs and offered his arm, she took it appreciatively. Imrahil led her to the stables.

He began preparing one of the horses as his own was in need of rest after their journey. Imrahil gave her an affectionate smile.

"You remember I use to take you out for midnight rides in Dol Amroth, along the on the Bay of Belfalas?" Walking to her he brushed a strand of hair from his daughter's face. Lothiriel had never noticed the winkles that started to appear above his eyes and across his brow.

"I could never forget father." She reassured.

She speculated that her father had not considered that Eomer and the others would miss them from the evening's celebrations but she did not mind. Although Eomer had gone to great lengths to prepare such a lavish evening for her family and she knew if she were gone too long he would worry. Lothiriel had not respected why Eomer had called on her family. At first she was infuriated; however after having seen her father and brothers, she was beginning to appreciate why Eomer had done so. For the first time in some months, she felt as if she could stand in a room filled with people and not feel ashamed or unfit.

"I will not be able to ride in such darkness, father. I can scarcely see two steps in front of me, I felt like I was going to trip coming down those stairs before."

"We will take one horse; we shan't go very far Lothiriel." He proceeded girthing up one of the horses. "Yes?" He awaited her response, a small smile tugged at her lips.

"Not too long this time papa." He chuckled at her reply.

Imrahil mounted the horse; Lothiriel haled herself onto the stall barrier and climbed across precisely positioning herself on the back of the horse, that she was seated behind Imrahil. She gripped onto her father's cloak. She felt much the same as if she were a little girl again, clinging onto her papa. Imrahil picked up a torch at the entrance of the stables and held it in one hand and the reins in the other.

Spurring the horse on; they headed towards the main gate. Two of the guards drew near, cautious of anyone leaving Edoras in the cover of nightfall, Lothiriel kept her head down. Taking note of only Imrahil and not the small woman that rode with him, they let them pass. Imrahil used his cloak to disguise his face and with Lothiriel slunk behind his tall and well-built frame, the guards could see no need for any concern. The large, dark and heavily fortified gates to the city were swung open.

* * *

"Gah, Eomer, a glorious win against my big brother." Erchirion slung his arm around Eomer.

Eomer was pleased to see Erchirion, he had been hoping to converse with him earlier but he had been otherwise occupied.

On every occasion Eomer and Erchirion had but a few drinks, it would lead to a long and usually passionate debate or exchange about battle strategies. At times, plates of food were used to describe various battle scenarios, the peas were Gondor and the pork was Rohan.

"Have you seen my Queen?" Eomer's eyes searched the crowd, men and few women, none of them Lothiriel.

"She might have stepped out with father; do not worry yourself." Erchirion assured "How do you feel about a drinking challenge?"

"A princeling from Dol Amroth has not a chance, my friend." Eomer teased. Erchirion laughed and Eomer grinned widely at his friend's keenness to challenge him.

* * *

Riding across the vastness of green Lothiriel stared up at the stairs, tiny sparkling illuminations in the deep sky. Imrahil spoke sweetly about her mother; she enjoyed hearing him speak of her. Lothiriel was startled as she felt her father tense up. She was suddenly jolted forward as her Imrahil cried out in dismay. "Lothiriel hold onto me!"

Lothiriel was flung to the side with great force and knocked unconscious, the fall causing her to hit her head. When she regained consciousness, Lothiriel immediately could hear Imrahil's cries of pain.

"Father… father!" She crawled towards the sound. She was fine apart from a few bumps and bruises, she did not feel as if anything was broken, perhaps a sprained ankle.

Imrahil groaned in agony, he could feel an excruciating pain on his left side. The horse had stumbled and then fallen back down on top of him. Screaming out now, he tried to adjust his body.

'_Where was Lothiriel?' _he panicked.

"LOTHIRIEL, daughter where are you?" He shouted out.

"Papa, I'm alright." She answered. A sigh of relief came from Imrahil, he moved only slightly and a shooting pain caused him to yell out in anguish. Upon hearing his pain, her eyes brimmed with tears.

It was dark and Lothiriel was struggling to see anything at all, let alone her father, the torch had been blown out. Crawling along the surface, the ground was very uneven and sharp rocks jabbed her, the uneven ground and rocks were almost certainly the cause of the fall.

Lothiriel finally found him, lying in an immense amount of hurt. A deep gash on his head; she noticed he held his trembling hands to his left side. The horse was long departed; there was no way to make it back to Edoras. Her father's injuries were far too grievous, he could not move even the slightest inch without yelping out in suffering. Hope solely relied on being found in the darkness of night.

For the next couple of hours, Imrahil tried to steady his breathing and think about something other than the pain he was feeling.

"Papa, do you remember when you took us to Minas Tirith with you, we were so young. I was could have only been about eight, possibly. You and uncle Denethor were standing behind one of the pillars watching Boromir and Elphir squabbling over which one of them was to be the next king of Gondor." Imrahil's eyes shifted to look at her delicate face, the coldness had transformed her skin to a ghastly white and her grey eyes shined like polished jewels under the moonlight. When she spoke the coldness made her breath icy.

"…and whilst they had been fighting over it, with their wooden fighting swords, do you remember? I commandeered the throne and entrusted Erchirion and Faramir to fight for me if one of them tried to take it from me. I think I made Amrothos my steward." She laughed softly.

"Games of little Princes and one Princess, we were a boisterous bunch." She brushed some welled up tears that threatened to drop at the thought of Boromir, how she missed her dear cousin.

Imrahil's voice was grave as he pushed out the words "You would have made a gallant Queen of Gondor daughter." She buried her head next to his shoulder.

'_You can't take him too' _she thought, overwhelmed by a sudden burst of distress, she clutched at him possessively.

She had some hope that they would be found, but yet she feared the long night of coldness. She rested a hand upon his rigid chest. Imrahil breathed in and out steadily between spurts of the unbearably sharp pain. Surely she would not have to endure losing him, for she felt her heart would not be able to withstand the loss. Hot tears ran down her face creating a stinging sensation on her cheeks. She closed her eyes tightly and took rest holding onto the precious being that was her father.

* * *

Climbing the broad and high stairs of Meduseld hurriedly, panting he pushed the great doors open.

"My Lords, they've been found, not one mile northeast!" The guard hastily announced.

Eomer looked up from a map he had spent almost two to three hours studying, dropping it and with immense rush, he exited the hall. The sun shone a golden glow on the horizon as it was beginning to rise. The skies were clear but bitterness clung to the chilly air. Lothiriel and Imrahil had been missing for just a little over seven hours, Eomer had noted them as having been gone far too long and sent guards to search the city in the darkness for the pair. After having no such luck, Eomer ordered scouts out at first dawn to check the surrounds; the night seemed to drag on and left an unpleasant feeling to the end of the celebrations. Eomer awaited news, Amrothos by the King's side, helping to soothe his outbursts of anxiousness.

He now addressed the guard as Eothain, one of his most loyal riders. "What be their condition Eothain?"

"Half froze, sire." Eothain replied, his answer failing to satisfy Eomer in the slightest, he swiftly turned and grasped Eothain's throat, forcibly pushing him back against one of the pillars. He held him there for a moment, before releasing his iron grasp from around Eothain's neck. Eomer strode down the stairs, Elphir and Erchirion in pursuit, leaving a half choked Eothain to recover.

* * *

'_Father…papa?' _Her slumbering eyes fluttered open, light entered them. Twisting away from it, she did not take in the rising sun. Her immediate thought was of her father. Lothiriel shook him lightly, he groaned. Noticing the rise and fall of his chest, she placed a hand to his cheek, he was very cold. The grass that surrounded them was covered in morning dew and for the first time Lothiriel noted the lack of gushing wind across the Riddermark this morn. Pressing down with her hands and forearms she tried sitting up. As soon as she did Lothiriel was staggered to see riders approaching, perhaps seven in total, her vision was cloudy and unclear.

She turned to Imrahil, "Father, riders come! Do not fear." Imrahil did not answer, Lothiriel with a desperate desire for aid, used all the strength she possessed in that moment, to ignore her bodies wanting pleas to remain lying down and stood.

Galloping towards her, there were Eomer, Elphir, Erchirion and four of the King's guards, two of which dragged a stretcher from behind their horses followed. When Eomer first noticed Lothiriel he hastened Firefoot with a desperate kick to reach her. Lothiriel was only able to stand for a few moments longer before her legs gave way and she collapsed. Upon seeing this, Eomer let out a terrifying cry, as he drew closer he dismounted and went upon foot.

She lay motionless as he crouched down and lifted her upper body into his lap; he picked up and delicately moved her head to rest between his chest and elbow. She was so fragile and small, like a flower easily blown away in the powerful winds of The Mark.

"NO! Bema, please, Lothiriel, Lothiriel!" He brushed the messy hair from her face.

Lothiriel could see his face faintly; it was in his arms she was beginning to feel warm again. Eomer felt a sigh of relief but not until noticing Imrahil. He lay shaking almost unconscious, his face twitched, his shallow breathing the only sign he was anything but dead.

"Quickly, move him onto the stretcher!" Eomer ordered.

He brought one of Lothiriel's freezing hands to his mouth and kissed it. He then held it to the warmth of his cheek.


	3. Chapter 3: Fineries

**Author's notes: Oh my gosh, a very long time since I have updated and I truly apologize but guess what? I'm done, no more school, ever! Haha. So now I can update more frequently, hopefully. ;) Stay tuned for the future chapters I have some big plans for the storyline.**

**Sincerely,**

**Laura**

* * *

The dark gates opened for the returning party. Elphir and Erchirion feared for their father and rode behind the two guards that dragged the stretcher cautiously. Imrahil was lying flat upon it, although now suffering and yelping in anguish once again, for the movement had disturbed his bodies' way of stabilizing his injuries. Eomer rode with Lothiriel seated in front of him, one hand around her waist keeping her upright. Eomer summoned more guards to escort them to the golden hall.

When they reached the steps, Eomer lifted down Lothiriel from the saddle, her body hung limply in his arms. Still holding her, he ordered a stable boy to take his horse. Eomer followed in pursuit of the troop of seven guards that carried Imrahil into the golden hall and then through to the chambers where healers awaited to assess and attend to him.

Eomer hurriedly brought Lothiriel to the healers who set her down on the bed, examining her cold and feverish body at great lengths. Eomer observed as the healers moved about the room, his body hunched over, his hands tightly clenched together in front of his mouth.

Amrothos entered the room, rushing over to his sister's side.

"How did this happen?" Eomer brought his eyes to meet the young prince, his head still hung low but his eyes welled up with tears that threatened to fall. He tore his hands a part as if he were about to stand in frustration. He brought his hands back together and spoke in earnest.

"My charge is for her safe-keeping, Amrothos?"

Elphir stepped into the room and proceeded in answering the King's question. "My father used to take my mother out for rides along the beaches of the Bay at night. Once my mother passed, he continued the tradition with Lothiriel."

"How is your father?" He asked, overwrought the idea that both of them were lost for all hours of the night in the freezing conditions on the plains.

"They say he has a mass bruising along his left side, they suspect he has injured his ribs, fractured them perhaps. They will bind him with a belt and he will need rest, a lot of it." Noticing Amrothos' expression, he continued. "He will live; we will not fear the worst little brother."

* * *

The next few days in Edoras were tedious. A warm fire crackled in the King and Queen's bed chamber. Lothiriel awoke from her slumber; she brushed her fingertips across the extra fur blankets that covered her. Pushing them aside she got up to dress herself and head for the hall in search of Eomer.

Upon hearing raised voices in the hallway, she headed towards the yelling. It was distinctively that of her husband and father.

"She may be your daughter but she is my wife, Imrahil, and Queen of Rohan for god sake. Your acts of foolishness endangered both your lives." Eomer was more than angry, he was livid. Imrahil, who was now infuriated sat up as far as he could, ignoring the pressing pain.

The door creaked and Eomer spun around to see a pair of grey eyes glaring back at his. She entered the room, silently awaiting him to continue his scolding of their actions and sure enough he continued, her presence only spurring him on.

"Edoras is not Dol Amroth, the wind changes here. Riding out in the darkness and not in the light of day makes rocks and unsteady land difficult to see. The horses cannot see but a-stride in front of another!" Eomer paced back and forth, strictly enlightening them on the ways of the land.

There were many reasons why one did not take such action. The realm was far diverse in landscape than Dol Amroth; it was far from the beaches of their homeland.

"You may have thought the past time of these midnight rides was a harmless fault, however what it could have resulted in- no, I cannot speak of it." There was an uncomfortable distance between Eomer and herself, she watched him pace at the other end of the room. Gruffly sighing in frustration, Eomer abruptly turned and left the chambers.

* * *

Imrahil grew stronger over the passing weeks. Lothiriel had spent much time assuring Eomer she was fit enough to do anything, but alas there was no arguing with the determined and spirited Queen.

Soon Imrahil and the princes would be returning home. The princes were skeptical about their father's recovery, which led to the conclusion that Imrahil would be in better care at the Houses of Healing.

Morning, Lothiriel peered through the doorway of the great hall. Slouched back at a long table was Eomer, feeding a piece of chicken to a dog. She loitered awhile before she heard Eomer's deep voice call to her.

"Since you are up and about, you may as well join me." Eomer had absorbed himself in addressing to his clerical duties.

'_Nothing gets past him'_ she grumbled.

"I did not want to disturb you." She spoke sincerely.

"A bit late for that" He teased lightheartedly and beckoned her to follow him back to the mountain of parchments that was stacked up nice and tall, a feather quill lay next to a vile of ink.

"I am signing these parchments; it is one of my many rousing duties." Eomer rarely opted for sarcasm. He was always sincere in what he spoke, but he seemed different today.

It was true Eomer and Lothiriel had grown a part over these last few months. Eomer felt the strain of being King, re-building a war torn region and their marriage had taken a severe blow. He often reminisced back to what it felt like first meeting Lothiriel in the white city. He fondly thought back to when he first laid eyes on her, Aragorn held a welcoming feast in Merethrond on his return to Minas Tirith some months after the War of the Ring. After their introduction, he was almost immediately besotted with the Gondorian beauty. She was well spoken, a scholar, she had the beauty of an elf and the prestige of any true royalty of Gondor. The Princess of Dol Amroth seemed like a dream, her fairness and delicate nature captured Eomer, she reminded him of the majestic nature of the Mearas.

* * *

_King Aragorn finished his toast to the King of Rohan with a warmhearted smile. _

_Eomer noticed her across the hall, standing with Elphir and Amrothos. Her hair tied up and dressed in a royal purple gown, she looked like the essence of happiness as she laughed openly, her smile, oh her smile, he thought. _

_Never had he been afraid to approach a woman before, never having much time for them before. He had always dreaded the responsibility of a wife. For no man's life was a guarantee, there was no certainty of return from battle. He had been in relations with women, but nothing of a serious nature, for no woman had ever captured him, not like her. _

_Faramir, Aragorn, Imrahil and Eomer later discussed the pressing issue of the borders of__Ithilien and future plans for Osgiliath, avoiding the party atmosphere with inappropriate timing. The invitation was extended to Eomer to__ join __the Great Council of Gondor. The clustered group of men were intensely discussing the matter, before Faramir was stolen away to dance with Eowyn._

"_It's a celebration is it not? The politics can wait, can they not?" Eowyn's question was asked with a slight smirk._

"_Eowyn!" Eomer's voice thickened with surprise at her behaviour._

"_It is most alright Eomer." Aragorn laughed lightly as Faramir was dragged away by a delighted Eowyn "I do believe I should be dancing with my Queen…" his eager eyes searched around for her "…where ever she is." _

_A bewildered Imrahil and Eomer were left standing as the dance began. Eomer grinned at the awkwardness of their situation. "So, ah- may I?" Imrahil chuckled and slapped him on the back in a cheery manner. "Come Eomer, I would like you to officially meet my daughter." He beamed him a wide grin. _

_Noticing her father and the King of Rohan coming towards them, Lothiriel brushed down her dress most subtly but Eomer noticed her nervousness, for he felt much the same. Eomer steadied himself, as drew near he noticed he was far larger of stature than the Princess; she was neither overly tall nor short, but those eyes. _

"_Lothiriel, daughter, I would like to introduce you formally to the King of Rohan, Eomer son of Eomund, lord of the Riddermark." Imrahil's introduction was most courteous; Eomer noted the sly smile formed at his lips. Lothiriel bowed her head at the King, Amrothos moved to stand quietly behind her; he nibbled at his nails, suppressing his cheekiness, for Papa had already made his intentions clear to his three sons. He had hoped to introduce their little sister to the King. _

"_May I Princess Lothiriel?" Surprised at his question, she froze up before feeling a nudge in her back from Amrothos; she placed her hand in his much larger one. If she were to compare him to her new King Aragorn, he was far from kinglike in appearance. _

_Eomer cursed the healed over cuts and rough dried skin on his hands that must have been unpleasant to touch. This woman came from a house of fineries, although he was never attracted to vain or frivolous women, it seemed she was neither. _

_She continued to captivate him throughout the night and the pair quickly became the whispers of the evening. She impressed him with her knowledge of Rohan. She was intelligent and quick to voice her opinions and thoughts. Her beauty could have only been countered by the fairness of the elves. Eomer held no need to wonder on whether his courtship of the Gondorian Prince's daughter would be welcomed by Imrahil, for he was a man of great integrity. _

* * *

Imrahil looked up from the book he was reading, Eomer entered.

"Ah you have come to visit me."

Eomer meandered over to the bed and traced the carvings in the wood of the bedpost.

"Are you feeling any better?" Imrahil shrugged. "I will soon be back on my feet."

"The healers say you have recovered well." He sat upon the end of the bed. Imrahil placed the book down.

Tension was still apparent between them; though Eomer cared deeply for the man he fought alongside on the Pelennor, they were brothers in war and now family. The respect and kindness the Prince had shown him after Théoden's funeral was undoubtedly most admirable. Although what Imrahil would say next, shocked Eomer to his core.


	4. Chapter 4: Unattainable

"As her father, you know I wish for nothing more than her happiness, I would ask for your permission to bring her home to Dol Amroth for a time-"

Eomer quickly stood up, his face intensified. Trying to subdue rising anger he tightly clenched his teeth. He was infuriated that Imrahil would ask this of him. To consent to what he asked, Rohan was her home; he was her lover and her protector.

'I am her husband' the voice inside wanted to shout at the top of his lungs. "Her home is here, not in Dol Amroth!"

A silence stung the air.

"My friend, I seek her happiness-"

"Bah!" Eomer scoffed "What makes you think you have a right? Am I not worthy now? Do you suspect you would be asking this of me if the child had not been lost?"

A heart wrenching momentary pause, Eomer looked down, the lines in his brow softened before giving Imrahil an icy cold glare "You know nothing of it."

* * *

They lay quietly in bed, Lothiriel resting her head against the pillow watching Eomer, it had been a long time since they had been intimate and she was aware of how long he had been waiting. Feeling like tonight was finally the night to rekindle their love; Lothiriel stirred Eomer with a soft kiss. Surprised by this, Eomer attempted to deepen the kiss, he heard no objections.

The next morning, Lothiriel noticed Eomer's body language, his broad shoulders were hunched over, avoiding her presence as he moved about the room. She moved towards him and placed a slender hand on his back.

"You hardly ate last night. I know you are troubled, Eomer?"

He didn't want to just blurt out everything, but there was little use in keeping it from her and with only a week until she would be heading home, he hated calling Dol Amroth her home. "Your father and I have discussed his returning, he has asked for my blessing for you to go home to Dol Amroth for a time. Your father is a dear to me and I-"

She was astonished by what he was saying and cut him off before he could finish. "My place is here" she spoke firmly.

"I have seen grief and I will not watch you fall to it. I cannot bear it."

Walking away from him, she felt her eyes well with tears. Confused about the night before and what it meant to them both. "Please, Lothiriel, I'm letting you go."

"And you here, for how long, while I ride away with- you cannot- I won't" With fragility she was upset that he would agree to such a thing and that her father would even enter into a discussion about this.

"You are not here." He answered her honestly.

"What?" She asked. She was here for him in every way a woman can be for a man.

"You've been but a shell since…" He couldn't finish his sentence. She noted he had stopped mid-sentence and looked up at him.

"I thought after I sent for your father things would be different." He dared not look into those grey eyes or he would barely be able to let her leave.

"Give me time and they will be different."

"Seeing you with your family was the first time in months I have seen you smile. Go back to Gondor and heal from this." Somehow he knew Imrahil was right, she needed to not be here, to not be where everything reminded her of what could have been. One of Eomer's many capabilities was barking orders at even the most feral of insubordinate men. Although being tough with Lothiriel was another matter.

"No, I will not!"

Supressing his own feelings, he dug deep and spoke steadily and calmly "This is not a request, but an order from your King."

* * *

It was the dawn of the leaving, a week since Eomer had told Lothiriel she would be returning to Dol Amroth. The slumbering awoke to the sound of rosters cocking, a restless night for both Lothiriel and Eomer; the two had barely spoken. Every time Eomer had gone to touch her, she avoiding all contact by moving away, she had taken her seat next to him at the feast the previous night, but only to save face. She could barely look at him. The thought that he no longer wanted her was too distressing; she removed herself and became completely unapproachable.

Eomer stood at the top of the steps of Meduseld, watching over the troop preparing to leave. Now that Lothiriel was leaving with them, a guard or riders would go with them in case of ambush along the way. The sunrise on the horizon was beautiful; _it was too nice a day to be losing his Queen_.

Imrahil was still not fully recovered and needed crutches to get around, there was no way he could ride a horse, humiliated as he was, Eomer insisted he go in a carriage. The journey to Minas Tirith would be much slower and Eomer sought comfort in the amount of guards he appointed to escort them. Elphir and Erchirion strode out from the hall, bowing towards the King and then bringing him in for a bear hug that was most rough.

"Don't worry big boy, you'll win next time." Teasing Eomer, Elphir laughed wholeheartedly about his recent loss in an arm wrestle.

"You won by a hair!" Eomer shouted as Elphir was already half way down the stairs.

Erchirion grinned at the two before bringing Eomer's forehead to his own and whispering a blessing to the King and his realm. "Thank you my brother." Eomer replied.

Not too long and it was time for the party to be on its way. The people of Edoras gathered to say farewells to the party, unbeknownst to them their Queen would be travelling back to Gondor. The doors of the golden hall opened for a weak Imrahil with Lothiriel at his side. She walked alongside her father, Eomer grappled for her arm as she completely disregarded him and continued on down the grand steps.

"Lothiriel?" His voice said her name with such concern when she hadn't stopped, there was no goodbye. "Lothiriel, Lothiriel?" He tried, a little louder than a whisper and followed them down the steps as she continually brushed him off. The public nature of the environment limited anything he could do in that moment. He stopped midway down the stairs and watched her lead her papa to the carriage.

Helping him on board, Imrahil turned back to his daughter "Go to him my dear; do not be so stubborn as to not say goodbye to your husband."

Eomer was beginning to regret this decision entirely, it wasn't made for him, and he knew it was always going to painful. _She hated him. _He thought.

Lothiriel walked over to her horse. A stable boy greeted her with a warm smile, offering her a leg up onto her mount. Just before she could reply, Eomer protectively stepped in, nudging the boy out of the way. She rolled her eyes at his feeble attempt to try and be her King, had he not realised that this separation would mean he couldn't watch her every move, _was he really so foolish?_ She thought.

"Are you sure you don't want to ride in the carriage with your father?" He asked in earnest, hoping she would say yes or at least respond. Oh how he knew she hated when he coddled her, she would surely ark up to that one.

"No thank you."

Lifting her onto the horse, she gripped onto the reins and sat up, positioning herself in the saddle correctly.

"I won't beg Lothiriel."

"I would never ask you to."

She kicked her horse on. Eomer stepping back as she trotted off towards her brothers who were making a steady descent down the slope of Edoras.

* * *

Amrothos, having said his goodbyes, trotted up alongside Lothiriel just as they passed through the gate and out of the Rohirrim capital.

"Do you think he loves me Amrothos?"

"More than anything or anyone little sister" Amrothos' answer was sincere; Lothiriel looked back as the guards followed them in precession, leading the carriage with her papa. Edoras was even more beautiful a city now, than it was when she first saw it. It suddenly crossed her mind that this could be the last time she would ever see it. _Why was she leaving this beautiful place?_ She couldn't remember anymore. Her world had become cloudy and confused, she longed for a time when heartache and upset did not loom over her happiness with Eomer. She longed to be happy again, perhaps returning home would help her come back to who she was, before all the endless disappointment.

* * *

**Author's notes: Please don't feel disheartened or give up on the story because it might not be going where you like, it will end in a happily ever after because that's how Tolkien intended it. I'm trying something different and I have the storyline mapped out, so that means chapters will come out faster. **

**Just so people know, I'm fully aware there are probably grammar errors and spelling errors and just errors in general all over the place, but I figure its fanfiction, you guys are here for entertainment, not critically analysing my work haha ;)**


	5. Chapter 5

It would take the party by way of the Great West Road ten days three hundred and fifty miles to reach Minas Tirith.

The ember from the fire danced around in the cool night breeze. The men taking the opportunity to relax and share in stories of war, eating the food they had caught themselves. Lothiriel lay in the warmth of her tent, left alone to her thoughts as she gazed down at a pretty piece of jewellery handed down to her as a family heirloom of the House of Eorl. The pendant was gold crafted, an incredibly intricate horse's head. Studded with garnet and ruby, the horse's mane, glimmered against the yellow gold when she held a candle to it.

Eventually falling asleep, tossing and turning, she agitatedly fought off the ghouls in her nightmares. Her eyes blinked open slowly; the camp was vastly different to the racket she fell asleep to. Leaving the tent, she tiptoed, darting through the smoke from the dying fire. She smirked at the strewn men asleep, covering every inch of the ground.

One of the guards stirred, hearing twigs snap under her the feet.

"What you doing up?"

Startled, she looked down towards the husky voice of the man. He was the typical lower ranked Rohirrim guard, lesser educated but good with a horse and a spear. Lothiriel had thought Eomer's decision to send an entire troop of men on their journey to Dol Amroth unnecessary, considering the chance of ambush along their route was improbable in the days of late.

* * *

_"My King, how many riders should I send with the Queen?" Eothain questioned._

_"Half my personal guard and promote some of the lower ranks. They will need to be trained as the Queen's guard." Eomer said as he shuffled some parchment in front of him._

_"My lord, the Queen's guard?"_

_"Aye Eothain, when she returns she is to have her own personal guard. It is my order." Eomer took a sip of his ale "you look like at me like a dumb dog! What! What shall I say to ease your concern?"_

_Eomer's bitterness manifested itself as raging insults and temper tantrums frequently since the miscarriage._

_"I shall leave you outside for the night, maybe then you'd have some sense knocked into you." He continued, berating Eothain._

_"Will the Queen be returning to us my lord?"_

_"What would make you think otherwise?!" Snapping at Eothain, his brow furrowed in thought._

_"My apologies, for how long will the length of her journey be?"_

_An uncomfortable pause, Eomer didn't have an answer._

_"You've questioned me enough for one day Eothain, you are dismissed."_

_Eomer waved his wrist at his subordinate. Eothain acknowledging that the King would hear no more about it bowed respectfully, leaving Eomer to his duties._

* * *

Overlooking a wide meadow Elphir relaxed up against a tree, his arms resting behind his head as he pondered their return to Dol Amroth, his gleaming home upon the shore of the bay to Belfalas. It had been long since he had seen his wife and little son. He thought upon his son's freckles, counting them by memory, Alphros' curly reddish hair blowing in the sea breeze as he fished a small rock pool along the peninsula, jumping up and splashing his father accidently to avoid the nip of crabs. His wife's soothing singing as she put their child to bed each night. How blessed they were to live in the new age of peace and prosperity. How lucky he was to have survived the battles of his time. And how he wished his friends were there to see the Reunited Kingdom. Boromir had always talked so vividly about what Gondor would look like once again. And even though Elphir felt so content within his own family, the promise of prosperity for his home and the city he would one day reside over as Prince; he still couldn't shake the concern he had for Lothiriel, plaguing his mind.

He mostly worried that once home; his sister's greatest love would crumble and led her to a broken heart. They were like a pair of swans, split by time and space. And perhaps even though they were in love, it would not be enough to deter them from a bitter and resentful marriage. His friend and his sister were lost in their grief concerning their child and blinded by their own stubbornness.

"You're not sleeping brother?" Interrupted and startled, he turned his head to see Lothiriel approaching him. Elphir gazed up at the starry night sky. Calm and collected, he reminisced as his little sister cuddled up to his arm.

"Do you remember when we use to star gaze on the pebble beaches of home?"

Smiling fondly she answered "of course I do."

He smiled. Pointing up at the stars "look there, a deer, do you see it?"

"Elphir, if that's a deer than I'm blind and you're most certainly going blind."

"Explains why I was confused by Amrothos the other day." A puzzled expression on Lothiriel's face before almost fatherly wide eyed Elphir made a jest in good humour about his little brother "I thought he was an orc!" Elphir had always been the comical one to Lothiriel; he always knew ways of making her laugh, much more than her father or other brothers, he was the one who told stories to her about his adventures and myths he had heard. To say he was her favourite brother was not at all an untruth. He tried to hush her before she could wake the entire camp, covering her mouth, grinning widely as she struggled to win against his strength.

The games they played as children usually amounted to Lothiriel being sat on, squashed or teasingly told horror stories. Only when Boromir and Elphir reached their induction into the defences did Lothiriel's torture desist. As Lothiriel became a woman, the sons of Denethor and Imrahil were warned that she was now more than just their sister, she was a lady of great standing in Gondor and would one day soon marry and their playfulness was no longer appropriate to their formal standing. However Lothiriel abandoned this idea and continued to play and wrestle with her brothers. With her cousins, the situation was far different, Boromir was older and increasingly on the move to protect Gondor's borders and interests on a political scale. Lothiriel noticed Faramir's nature belittled, squandered under the harsh rule and punishments at the hand of Denethor, the threat of war from Mordor looming over Faramir's head.

Lothiriel's love for her brother was strong and Elphir had always been the one she would go to in even the darkest of hours. She imagined her mother as having the same characteristics as Elphir, the same soul and warmth of heart but with strength in knowledge. Lothiriel saw she wanted to be as intelligent as Elphir and had from a young age enjoyed following him around Dol Amroth questioning him and repeatedly asking for one more story.

Lothiriel stopped laughing gradually, nestling into his shoulder. They sat starring up into the sky, pointing out various animal forms until Lothiriel went very quiet. Elphir thinking her to be asleep said nothing, until hearing an icy cold sterile voice timidly ask him "Elphir am I to blame for this?

He remained silent, unknowing of what to say to a question that was so intimate in nature. Wanting to console her, he did his best to hold her tightly and disregard any thought she might have about Eomer falling out of love with her. She was the woman he had met and courted for two years before finally confessing his feelings. Elphir knew Eomer well, but he was not the kind to wear his heart and all Elphir could answer her with was that he loved her, he was sure of it.

"Does he think it were my fault I lost our child?" She starred off into the distance, barely listening to his responses.

"He does not blame you. No one can blame you."

"What does one call a mother that cannot bear to attend the burial of her own child? Eomer, he..."

She stopped midsentence; a catching in her throat tripping her up.

"Eomer, I left him to deal with it."

"You were grieving" Elphir tried to soothe.

She continued, pouring out confessions she considered to be the pitfall and disgrace of her role as a mother. "Eomer placed the Simbelmynë on her grave" she continued.

"It was a girl?" He asked sensitively.

"Do you think he means to punish me?"

"Of course not, Lothiriel, he is trying to help you in his way! You must understand, by you being home, he considers this time for you to move on and find some closure." Elphir was quick to squash her doubt about his unconditional love for her. It seemed to have worked as she changed the topic, but her mind still traced sadness to her joy.

"I always had a fondness for simbelmynë, such a pretty flower."

Elphir dragged her in closer to him and squeezed her tightly. She closed her eyes, picturing a little girl in white running through a field of simbelmynë. She wore a traditional Gondorian headdress and around her neck hung the pendant of the House of Eorl.

On the tenth and last day of their journey, Lothiriel made a venison stew for the company that had loyally escorted her. She was gratefully rewarded by smiles and cheers from the men. The camp was lively by midday, with only four leagues until they would reach Minas Tirith and no mishaps or troubles along the road.

Lothiriel made a start on cleaning her saddle blanket, scrubbing away the dirt off the hunter green coloured padding. Using a bristle brush and a pale of water collected from a nearby stream, she absorbed herself in the task. She scrubbed it with such force that a long strand of hair fell down onto her face. Her cheeks were crimson in colour as she cleaned and occupied her time before they were to make the final length of the journey. Somehow she couldn't shake the voices of an ugly fight with Eomer, who was furious about her decision to leave with him on a duty call to some of the worst raided settlements and farming land along the Snowbourn River. She remembered how furious she had made him that day.

* * *

_"NO! You're not going, I forbid you to ride. It's too dangerous. What if something happens? What if you fall and injure yourself?"_

_"Eomer, I'll be fine. You will be with me!"_

_Holding a hand on the slightly raised bump on her stomach she stepped forward towards him, touching his arm softly._

_"I'm not allowing it, Lothiriel."_

_"You're going to stop me from doing my duty?" She bit back._

_"For the sake of our child, aye, I am."_

_Raising her voice with intrepid resolve "and what are you saying; I care not for our child?" Knowing it would cause yet another dispute over her actions._

_"You're not thinking with any clarity, the midwives warned against it, did they not? You're too wild."_

_"I'll barely be atop the horse Eomer! And besides I thought you loved me for my wildness."_

_"Why do you feel you need to do this?! The people are not crying out to see their Queen" Eomer hissed with clenched teeth "and you're only arguing with me now because you won't see me leave! May I never rely on you to take the precautions necessary? I love your spirit not your reckless attitude towards your life!" Eomer continued "I have one defiant rule breaking sister; look for where she fell. Just the same she abandoned my advisement. It was mere luck that she survived. Shall you force me to endure similar anguish? I will not, Lothiriel I say I will not endure it again!"_

_She promptly stormed out on him, slamming the door with ferocity._

_"LOTHRIEL!" Eomer bellowed, following her out through the chamber doors._

* * *

Erchirion waved a hand in front of her face, trying to break her daze "Lothiriel? We'll be off again soon; father wanted me to inform you." She didn't answer.

"Are you alright, you've gone pale?" Erchirion reached over and placed his hand on her head, feeling for her temperature.

She vaguely nodded. "Are you thinking of home?" He asked.

A long moment before she said solemnly "which one?"

* * *

**Authors Note:**

**Hi everyone I'm at uni studying but I've just finished for the year so I thought I would publish the two chapters I never got around to publishing last year when I finished high school and my life was crazy. I'm free to just put these up and maybe keep writing. I won't say I'll try and get chapters out soon because look what happened last time haha horrible!**

**Thanks for staying tune and if you didn't stay tuned you suck, but not really I get why you wouldn't lol**


	6. Chapter 6: Reminders

Minas Tirith, the city of kings.

The company was close now; they could see the picturesque city, half shadowed by the sunset. Imrahil was too proud to enter Minas Tirith by wagon, he rode when they were within site, although it pained him greatly. Lothiriel by his side, their horses joined together by a rope on each frothing bit.

As they approached the gateway, an abundance of Dwarves of Aglarond moved hastily around, carrying materials and moving debris from the demolished gate. They insisted on working without the help of the Gondorian men. They went along moving great large pieces of rock almost bigger than themselves. One dwarf was being hoisted into the air on a makeshift swing of wood and ropes, clumsily sliding around on the seat as the dwarves below tried to balance the seat evenly from the ground. It made for quite a comedic sight.

As they entered through the wide gaping hole that was once the great gate of Minas Tirith, Imrahil and his sons broke away from the troop, trotting over to a tall pile of rubble for which an auburn haired dwarf sat atop, dressed in a humble manner, all but for the enormous bedazzlement of crystal jewels displayed upon him.

"Why did I offer to do this? I should have never … trust me to… NOT OVER THERE! BRING IT FORWARD! Bah hopeless, undeniably hopeless it all is."

"My Lord, Gimli!" Amrothos shouted up at him. Gimli peered down, exclaiming cheerfully at the sight of them.

"Ah ha, there be the three dashing young princelings! Sorry about the mess laddies. Ah and Prince Imrahil, what in the… my, what have you done to yourself?"

Imrahil gave him a courteous shake of his head "I am quite alright."

Although it was evident that Imrahil was in pain atop his horse, Gimli acknowledged that he wanted to appear well.

"What bid the dwarf folk in Minas Tirith?" Erchirion asked curiously.

An unhappy whiney came from Erchirion's horse before Gimli could answer. Two dwarves were unbeknownst to their surroundings passed underneath the girth of the animal to the surprise of everyone.

"Well I made the promise to build Aragorn a new gate. Low and behold the date of completion seems to be not yet in sight. A gift of Mithril and steel from us dwarves young princeling, a fine gift for Gondor!" Gimli spoke proudly.

Imrahil winced and let aloud a gasp, clutching his ribs "Father!" Lotheriel exclaimed "we need to get him to the top level.

"Yes, yes of course, go get him some help, do not dawdle any longer!" Gimili spoke in agreement.

Lothiriel guided her papa along the white stoned passage ways towards the citadel. She reached over and grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly.

After reaching the seventh floor of the city, they were greeted by guards of the fountain. Imrahil took back his crutches gladly; and headed towards the tower of Ecthelion. The courtyard was a buzz at their return. Lothiriel remained in the saddle, awaiting her brothers, as it was custom. Their arrival was accompanied by trumpeting musicians of the Fountain Court.

Once her three brothers proceeded to dismount leading their father to the kind, Lothiriel was made to wait for an official escort as the Queen of Rohan. She was no longer merely a princess of Gondor, free to wander the city, but officially her role meant she was a significant and valuable piece in the Gondor-Rohan relationship.

"My lady, would you release your feet from the stirrups?" She was startled as she felt a hand on her foot.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Your feet? I'm helping you down your highness."

She focused her eyes on the man, uniform of the citadel. He guided her feet to the ground. Lothiriel went to undo the bridle, accidently stepping on the foot of the stranger. She quickly spun around, apologizing profusely.

"That is quite alright, my lady, I felt not a thing."

"I really feel quite foolish, can I-" She was quickly cut off.

He lent forward, smiling widely and whispered "It is merely a foot my lady, I am sure the damage can be repaired." A cheeky smile played on his. His closeness was innocent but surprising.

"Well if I can do any-" He cut her off again.

"Gold."

"Sorry?"

"Gold for your clumsy mistake."

She stood speechless. Was he serious? She couldn't tell.

"It was a jest, my Queen."

Lothiriel laughed "I am not your Queen." A hint of concern showed in his eyes as they darted back and forth searching her face.

"-but I forgive you for your mistakenness." She smiled teasingly.

"You are a daughter of Gondor, my Queen, always in my eyes."

A moment passed. Gimli, having witnessed the interaction interrupted, clearing his throat to draw their attention away from one another. Lothiriel cursed herself for how the innocence of the situation may have been perceived.

"Queen Lothiriel, perhaps you should make your way up to the tower now? And ah, perhaps I might just have the honor of escorting you?" Gimili suggested, before glancing over at the guard, who stiffened, raising his nose up as though to assert himself.

Lothiriel feeling somewhat out of breath and embarrassed that she had let a mere jest appear so inappropriate, quickly agreed "Aye, of course, I have been so curious about your new title Lord Gimli."

Once Aragorn and the party of nobles which awaited the arrival of Lothiriel were in sight, Gimli charged forward to inform Aragorn of the day's progress.

"Ah Aragorn, just the man I wanted to see. We've pulled down five more rows with another forty-three to go." Aragorn looking slightly bewildered nodded begrudgingly.

"We will discuss this matter at tonight's feast my lord Gimli, but for now I must now greet our guest. The devoted wife of my beloved friend and ally, Eomer son of Eomund, King of Rohan, how was thy journey, Queen Lothiriel?"

He stepped forward to greet Lothiriel. With a beaming smile and kindness which reminded her of her father.

"King Elessar." She bowed respectfully; it was a lost but not forgotten feeling to see Aragorn's smile upon her. He took up her hand and kissed it fondly.

After the King's address, Faramir followed, laughing as he informally picked Lothiriel up and twirled her around in his arms. Soon joined by Eowyn who rushed over, giving her such a hug that Lothiriel was gasping for air. It had been long since she had seen the two of them or heard any news.

"How is my brother? How be Rohan? Tell me everything sister!" Excited to be hearing about her homeland, Eowyn pulled Lothiriel away from the company. Lothiriel glanced back, noticing the guard she had shared the stolen moment with shortly before. She kept her gaze upon him as he strode towards Faramir. His eyes wandered over to her figure standing with Eowyn. Lothiriel was quickly distracted away by Eowyn, leading her away to her stay room.

* * *

Lothiriel was left to freshen up before the welcoming feast in the grand hall. She washed with the help of a servant. Feeling much better she wrapped her naked body in a soft rabbit haired throw and collapsed onto the bed. Her eyes were tired and heavy and without intention she slid into a deep sleep.

A knock at the door, Lothiriel's eyes suddenly beamed open, she had overslept. Leaping off the bed, she rushed to put on a fur coat, trying to cover herself. "You may enter." A woman entered followed by two men carrying a large chest which appeared to be quite heavy. The servant woman placed a tall candlestick on the mantle of the fireplace. The two men placed the chest down in the corner of the room and left. The servant proceeded to open the locked chest. Once open she pulled out an array of beautiful dresses. They were pretty and feminine, and like nothing she had been wearing for the last ten days of strenuous travel.

"The King had these made as a gift for you, your highness."

"Oh they are beautiful!" She exclaimed, touching and admiring the embroidery on the belt of one of the dresses. "You must send a message to King Elessar, expressing my gratitude for these many beautiful gifts." She smiled warmly, still clutching onto the fabric and feeling its intricate needlework.

"My lady, this chest was sent by his highness King Eomer, to be received on your arrival to Minas Tirith. His highness had them made for you from the very finest of materials; shall I send word of your appreciation?"

She thought on it.

"No. I will write to him to express my gratitude in a private letter."

"Very well, my lady" The maid, took the candle which she had previously placed on the mantle and left the room.

Lothiriel slunk back onto the bed, still holding the dress in her hands.

* * *

Merethrond was the embodiment of generosity and prosperity. The feast was elaborate and extravagant. Upon the entrance of Gondor's King and Queen, the nobility stood and raised their goblets. Faramir began a toast to the health and well-being of their monarchs and for the well-being of Gondor's newest arrivals.

At the end of the speech, the King stood and fondly embraced Faramir, thanking him for his most kind toast and proceeded to offer him a dance with the Queen of Gonder. Arwen herself was a vision, elegantly dressed with radiating beauty. She glowed like moonlight on calmed seas. She took the hand of Faramir and proceeded to share the evening's first dance with him. Arwen was beloved by the people. She had become a symbol of hope to all men who suffered from the difficulties of returning to life after the war. Arwen, so touched by the souls of the soldiers, had the scriptures of the Númenor re-bound in silver and cobalt in their honor.

Eowyn looked a true beauty with her long golden locks loose, with an ornamental halo of wild flowers hanging from her hair. She danced like a forest gypsy, wild and carefree. Lothiriel was sweetly reminded of how similar Eowyn was to Eomer, same hair, she thought, and of course always so passionate. Lothiriel had never seen Faramir and Eowyn as happy as they were tonight. Mutterings amongst the guests that the pair would soon be having their first born were ripe. As it was, the guests avoided this chatter when Lothiriel was in ear's reach. A reserved Lothiriel sat in solitude, toying with her silverware, one hand resting under her chin.

* * *

_It was raining. You wouldn't know it, as the unruliness of the crowd's cries for their King got louder and louder. Eomer jumped down off his throne and stepped out into the crowd as the men created a wide circle surrounding him. Lothiriel remained seated, watching her husband with complete amusement. He was an untapped force, she laughed to herself. _

_Eomer waited for silence within the hall before speaking, and even then silence came with an outbreak of babble here and there. Drunk and stumbling, even then he was charismatic "Now you men, you know why we are all here; to celebrate the happiness of your King!" He turned back to Lothiriel, a broad grin stretching across his face as raised his pint up, foam frothing over the top._

"_Lothiriel, Queen of the Mark!" The crowd cheered and roared for what seemed like an eternity, the dogs dodging the men's feet as they rushed over to lick up the ale from the floor. Eomer charged towards her, barreling up the two stairs which raised the throne off the ground. She gasped as he picked her up, kissing her wildly in front of the mass, which by now was cheering ecstatically._

_He tasted disgusting, she thought. The tang of smoke on his tongue and the smell of his breath was enough to deter any woman. But he was a magnet for energy and his confession of love only melted her heart further. Her fingertips felt the sweat droplets of sweat as they ran down his face._

_The celebration was nowhere near ending, and when a suitable distraction arose, Eomer grabbed Lothiriel's hand, sneaking her out of_ _the Golden Hall and through a back passageway. Once outside they ran through the rain like excitable children; laughing and kissing one another in between breath. _

_He pulled her into a small covered corner between Meduseld and a supplies store, the patchy rooftop barely providing any shelter from the rain. Eomer looked down at his newly wed bride, sopping wet and still she looked beautiful. _

_Lothiriel enjoying the sight of Eomer's clothing clinging to his rippling muscles and broad back, his honey drizzle hair tangled and matted. Now still, the moonlight appeared through the rain clouds, the collected rain in the roof thatching dribbled down into a deep puddle beside them. _

_In that moment Eomer smiled at her with all the love he possessed._

* * *

From behind her she heard a rustle of the curtain. Seeing nothing Lothiriel continued watching the guests, mindlessly fiddling with anything and everything in front of her.

"Psst, my lady…?" A voice called to her. She looked around before sliding her chair back towards the taffeta-like blue curtains.

She gasped in shock upon seeing the guard she had exchanged humor with earlier in the day.

"What are you doing?!"

"I wanted to apologize if I caused you any trouble."

"Trouble? No what trouble, I should be apologizing for acting so inappropriately. Why are you hiding behind a curtain?"

"Would you trust me, if I told you I have something to show you?" His eyes darted back and forth nervously, hoping no one was yet to see him, least of all Faramir.

"No. And I cannot just leave; this is a feast in my honor. Besides you are a stranger to me."

"You've been playing with your fork for at least a half hour; you are clearly very interested in your feast." He smirked.

"And you have been watching me for a half hour?"

He frowned "no… I just…"

"Exactly, now go back to your quarters or wherever you came from" she spat with great aristocracy.

"Is that an order?"

"No but I…" The words didn't seem to follow.

"Good, then you'll come with me now then?"

"I shall not."

"You shall. Oh I'm so pleased." There on the corner of his smile, she noted two dimples.

"What is it you wanted to show me?" She hastened him.

"You'll see."

"There isn't a part of Minas Tirith I haven't seen; I lived here practically my whole life." She announced pretentiously, beginning to grow impatient.

"Good then, you'll be surprised."

She starred him down "I want to know your name?"

"And why is that necessary?"

"You know mine" she retorted.

"Daeron, my mother is a first cousin to Beregond, once Captain of the White Company."

A moment as she remembered that name, 'Beregond', she knew it.

She looked back at her father standing by the King; his mouth seemed to form her name in conversation. What if they were to call her over?

She announced quickly "I am afraid I must decline on your offer, perhaps we can meet tomorrow and you may show me then?"

He took in her reply for a moment and then responded abruptly; realizing he may have been too brazen in his demands of a Queen.

She looked back to check no one had noticed her talking to the curtains.

"My apologizes, your highness, I did not mean to offend, how foolish of me."

"No it is not that, I-" But before she turned back to face him he was already gone.

* * *

Meanwhile in the realm of Rohan feasting was far from the King's mind. Eomer stretched upright in his chair, the floor of his dimly lit chamber covered in parchments. Upon signing the last decree for the night, he sighed, bringing his hands to his face and rubbing his sore dreary eyes. Tomorrow he would ride to Snowbourn and in a bid to be amongst to his people; he would personally see to the rebuilding and sewing of crops in the villages attacked by the orc raids during the war. It was a difficult task, so many of his people were harmed during the war, tortured and missing limbs.

Even with the most difficult of his duties, it was not enough to distract him from her. His bed was much colder now, uninviting and he was reminded of the days of the war, when his nights were so often spent alone. How long would their separation last?Eomer, confused and annoyed pushed back his chair from the table and rose with a heavy head, breathing in and out heavily.

With no word for another few days, he prayed the company had reached Minas Tirith safely.


End file.
